


Kiddie Kare for Hogwarts Teachers

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-22
Updated: 2006-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Welcome to Hogwarts’ own Day Care Centre. Please come in and take a seat, and I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve stopped Severus and Albus throwing blocks. Poppy, sand isn’t a food, and Minerva, nor is paint. No, I don’t think Sybill likes the taste either … HP/HG AD/MM





	1. The Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  
Summary: Welcome to Hogwarts’ own Day Care Centre. Please come in and take a seat, and I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve stopped Severus and Albus throwing blocks. Poppy, sand isn’t a food, and Minerva, nor is paint. No, I don’t think Sybill likes the taste either …

Rating: PG but may go up

Warnings: Mild language, but other than that I don’t know yet

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR, and the last time I saw a lawyer I was in bed for weeks after my allergic reaction … and I only met them for five seconds. Any longer and I may die. So don’t set any on me, okay?

Author’s Notes: This fic’s going to be quite short, probably between not much more than 10 chapters long. I could write a sequel, but at the moment I’m not a hundred per cent sure how this one’s going to end, so I don’t know. Don’t expect regular updates on this one, I just wrote this first chapter to get rid of writer’s block – the next may not be out for months.

* * *

** Kiddie Kare for Hogwarts Teachers **

** Chapter One: The Discovery **

By Alexannah

“Harry, wake up!”

“Huh?”

Hermione dug her elbow into him. “Wake up, sleepy-head. The meeting’s over.”

“It is?” Harry rubbed his eyes and looked round at the empty room, then down at the minutes on her lap, ignoring her glare. “What was decided?”

“Nothing new, apart from the school funds. Professor Lupin is concerned about how the money’s being spent: there isn’t enough to keep school equipment supplied. But apart from that, nothing.”

“Right.” Harry flicked briefly through Hermione’s records, pausing at the list of those present. “None of the other teachers were here? That’s odd.”

“According to Professor Lupin, all classes were cancelled because they’ve all come down with something. There were some iffy mushrooms in last night’s omelette. It’s strange though, because none of the students appear to be ill.”

“Really?” Harry yawned. “How odd. Shall we go, then?”

Hermione sniffed at him and stood, gathering her belongings. “I wish you wouldn’t sleep through the meetings, Harry. You’ll get your Head Boy badge taken if you go on like this.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, stifling a second yawn. “But I’m not taking History of Magic anymore.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m not sleeping well, and I don’t have Binns’ class to catch up with my sleep in.”

“Oh. Why don’t you go to Madam Pomfrey for a sleeping potion?”

“I would, but you can get addicted to them if you use them too much. Besides, if the whole staff’s ill, I don’t want to go near them at the moment. Did you say all the classes are cancelled?”

“… Yes.”

“Great. Think I’ll have a kip in the dormitory. See you later, Hermione.”

Hermione glared at his retreating back, but it was a softer one this time.

* * *

Ron was waiting back in the common room, building a card castle with his Exploding Snap set. He’d never been able to complete it without singeing his eyebrows, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. 

 

“How was the meeting, then?”

Hermione sighed. “Harry slept right through it, _again_.”

“Is it just me or do I detect a slight lack of hostility in that sentence?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, till he continued, “Normally you come back spitting blood.”

Hermione snorted. “I think that’s an exaggeration, but you’re right: Harry’s just told me he hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“Nightmares?” Ron sat up, knocking his castle flying, which exploded. “Damn. Visions?”

“I don’t know; he didn’t say.” Hermione frowned. “Did he come through here?”

Ron shook his head, rubbing his eyebrows. “No, I haven’t seen him. Why?”

“He said he was going to his dormitory.” Hermione frowned to herself. “Maybe he’s gone to the kitchens.”

“Why would he go there? Apart from food. Or visiting Dobby.”

Hermione stood. “There was something funny about last night’s omelettes. I bet you anything Harry’s gone to find out what.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find Harry. The kitchens.”

Ron shrugged, turned back to his smouldering castle ruin, and sighed.

* * *

“So, about these mushrooms, Dobby?” Harry pressed, politely refusing the plate of blueberry muffins another house-elf was trying to press into his hands. 

 

“I isn’t knowing much, Harry Potter, sir. Someone is leaving an extra bag as a present, with a note saying these for the wonderful Hogwarts staff. Dobby isn’t knowing where they is coming from.”

“Were they very different from the ones served to the students?”

“They is special mushrooms, sir, coming from magical farms. They is usually only served at formal occasions; Dobby’s old masters are having some sometimes. They is very expensive, Harry Potter, sir, they is being special present.”

“And you’ve absolutely no idea who sent them?”

“None, Harry Potter, sir, nor is any of the house-elves.”

Harry sighed. “Are there any left over?”

“There is some, but Dobby is not knowing where they is being put. The house-elf in charge is visiting relatives and won’t be back for a fortnight, sir.”

“Could you look for them?” Harry asked. “And what about the note?”

“The note is being with the mushrooms, Harry Potter, sir; but Dobby can look for them.”

“Thanks, Dobby. Come and tell me when you do, okay?”

“Thank you Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is honoured he is given the privilege -”

“Harry? Are you there?”

“Hermione! What are you doing here?”

A small smile curled at the corner of her mouth. “A kip in the dormitory, eh?”

Harry shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “What can I say? You peaked my curiosity.” Quickly he filled her in on what Dobby had told him about the mushrooms, the elf beaming happily in the background.

Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I don’t like this. An anonymous present to the Hogwarts staff? That could have been from anyone. A Death Eater could have sent it and no-one would be any the wiser.”

“I don’t think it was a Death Eater,” Harry shook his head. “Or at least not one acting on Voldemort’s orders: it doesn’t sound like him. This isn’t his style.”

“That doesn’t comfort me. It could be a junior Death Eater trying to get into his good books. It could be someone in the school for all we know.”

Harry sighed. “Do you think we should talk to Professor Dumbledore?”

Hermione stared at him. “Of course we should! Why would you think otherwise?”

“The entire staff ate those mushrooms, Professor Lupin aside. I’m not sure I want to know _exactly_ how ill they are.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Hermione took hold of Harry’s arm and started dragging him towards the door. “Bye Dobby, thanks for all your help!”

“Miss is most welcome!” Dobby called happily after them. “Goodbye, Harry Potter, sir!”

Harry pulled his arm out of Hermione’s grip as they entered the Entrance Hall. “Are you sure about this, Hermione?”

“Of course I am. From what it sounds like, no-one apart from us have thought to question the house-elves. We ought to tell Professor Dumbledore what we’ve found out.”

“He probably already knows.”

“We don’t know that -”

“Stop.”

Hermione looked round at Harry, who had paused in the middle of the hall. “What?”

He put his finger to his lips. “Can you hear that?”

She frowned. “I can’t hear -” She stopped abruptly as the noise came again: crying.

“Where’s it coming from?” she asked, looking around.

Harry was walking unsurely towards the dungeon steps. “This way, I think.”

“Are you sure? I don’t fancy encountering an ill and hacked-off Snape.”

“If he’s ill he’ll be in the Hospital Wing or in his rooms. Come on.” Harry took her hand and pulled her down the steps.

The crying grew louder as they reached the bottom. Harry hesitated, listening hard. The sound was coming from behind one of the doors. He and Hermione looked at each other, silently agreeing, and pushed it open.

A small boy no older than two or three was curled up in a corner, wailing quietly into his clothes, which consisted of a grey nightshirt big enough to be adult size and a cloak just as big. His eyes were closed, but his hair was thick and dark and all over the place, sticking to his wet face.

Harry crept over and laid a tender hand on the boy’s shoulder. The reaction was unexpected: he flinched violently, his eyes snapping open, recoiling back from Harry. He had big dark eyes, like coals.

“Sorry,” Harry said quietly, taking his hand back and kneeling down by the child. “What’s your name?”

The boy’s lip trembled as he surveyed Harry for a moment, obviously sizing him up, before he murmured, “Sev.”

“What are you doing here, Sev?” Hermione said gently, sitting next to Harry.

Sev’s eyes flickered back and forth between them. “I-I don’t know.”

“How did you get here?”

“I-I don’t know; I was asleep.”

“We should take him to Dumbledore,” Harry muttered in Hermione’s ear. She nodded and held out her hand to the boy, who took it warily.

“Here we go, Sev. We’re going to take you to someone who’ll help you, okay?”

He nodded slowly, and clasped Hermione’s hand tightly as she led him to the door.

“Right, now we have two things to talk to him about,” Harry muttered, thinking. “Hermione, who do you reckon he is?” He nodded at Sev, who was staring straight ahead, appearing fascinated at the display of magic.

“I have no idea,” Hermione said, “but what do you make of his clothes?”

Harry looked down. Sev was holding them up with his free hand, but he still kept tripping on them.

“They look like they were made for an adult. Why’s he wearing them?”

“That’s the answer I’m afraid of hearing.”

They paused at the gargoyle to give the password (M&Ms) and Harry lifted Sev up in his arms so the kid’s clothes wouldn’t get caught in the spiral staircase. Hermione knocked at the door of the office.

There was a sharp squeal, a scuffle and the sound of something metal dropping, and silence. Hermione hesitated before pushing the door open.

The office looked a mess. The paperwork had been knocked off the desk in a mess over the floor and Fawkes had vanished, but the worst part was Dumbledore’s collection of whirring contraptions. One was in pieces on the floor, and the others had been taken down and meddled with. It looked like someone had tried to work out how they worked and play at putting them together.

“What happened here?” Harry asked out loud, aghast. It looked almost as bad as it had when he’d thrown his tantrum after his fifth year. He still felt ashamed when he thought about that.

“Harry,” Hermione muttered.

“What?”

She pointed into a corner. Some of Dumbledore’s papers had been taken, along with a bottle of ink. From the look of things, someone had been finger-painting with them. Drawing closer, Harry could make out a smiley face and an attempt at the alphabet.

“A child?” he murmured. He looked round at Sev, but he was staring round at the office with apparent fear on his face. Harry couldn’t blame him: the mess was overwhelming, especially compared to its usual tidy state.

Hermione tiptoed soundlessly to the cabinet that usually held Dumbledore’s Pensieve and pulled the doors open sharply.

“ _It wasn’t me!_ ”

All three started at the immediate reaction. Crouched on the floor was another child, about three or four years older than Sev. This one had a mass of red hair and ink all over his hands and face, and was dressed in huge dark blue pyjamas.

“Another one?” Harry gasped. This was getting weird.

Hermione stared back from Sev to the boy in the cupboard, who was trembling as if expecting to be told off, with a thoughtful expression on her face. Finally she said, “What’s your name?”

“A-Albus,” he mumbled. “I didn’t do it!”

“Of course you didn’t.” Hermione held out her hand and he took it gingerly, letting her help him out of the cupboard.

“Albus?” Harry asked in disbelief. “That’s a coincidence.”

Hermione gave him the look she usually reserved for when he was being exceptionally thick.

“What?”

“Honestly, Harry, use your brain.”

Harry considered. “Oh.”

“Get it now?”

“Well … he could be his grandson or something.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You take Albus, I’ll take Sev.”

“Where are we going?”

“I think we should pay Professor McGonagall a visit.”

* * *

“Shouldn’t we knock?” Harry began, but stopped abruptly at the sight in the office. 

 

A girl of about four was sitting up at Professor McGonagall’s desk, reading a book. Her legs, too short for the chair, were swinging in mid-air, Professor McGonagall’s own glasses on her nose, long black hair hanging loose. Like the others, she too was dressed in clothes too big for her – in this case, a white nightie and emerald-green dressing-gown.

“This,” Harry said out loud, “is getting seriously weird.”

Hermione burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well – it’s not funny really – but Harry, don’t you get what’s happened?”

“I’m beginning to,” he replied, dread beginning to sink in.

“Who are you?” the girl spoke up.

“Who are you?” Albus replied before Harry or Hermione could speak. The girl gave him a funny look.

“I’m Minerva McGonagall. Who are _you?_ ”

**TBC …**

 


	2. The Roundup

Author’s Notes: Harry is Head Boy and Hermione is Head Girl. Ron is still a prefect. Just so that clears that up. I know Harry wasn’t made a prefect in OotP, but James wasn’t a prefect either and we know he was Head Boy. So there.

\- - - - -

** Kiddie Kare for Hogwarts Teachers **

** Chapter Two: The Roundup **

By Alexannah

“Keep _still_ ,” Harry grunted. Albus continued to squirm, trying to make a desperate break for freedom, but Harry had him pinned between his legs.

“It’ll only take a minute. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep moving.” Harry finally managed to get at his face with the cloth. “There, all done.”

Albus stuck his tongue out at him sulkily as Harry released him, making a face as it made contact with the inky cloth.

Hermione watched in amusement. Harry had said a minute ago that all three of the ex-teachers creeped him out, but as Albus creeped him out the least, he had volunteered to clean his hands and face. It had taken nearly ten minutes just to get one hand clean. Hermione had to admit seeing Snape’s eyes in the toddler’s face was rather unnerving.

“Need help, Harry?”

“Not now I’m finished, thanks, Hermione,” Harry glared at her, looking down at Severus and Minerva, who were sitting peacefully by her feet with Minerva’s book open between them. She seemed to be explaining it to Severus, who obviously didn’t have a clue what any of it meant, but was looking at it with her anyway.

“So, what’s the plan of action?”

“Well,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “we need to round up the rest of the staff – I mean, kids – before one of them gets into trouble.”

Harry groaned. “Great, just what I need: my own nursery in my bedroom. Why couldn’t the mushrooms just have turned their faces blue or something?”

“Oh Harry, use your brain. Someone obviously did this deliberately; there must be a reason why whoever sent the mushrooms wanted all the teachers as children.”

“Except Professor Lupin. He didn’t eat them.”

“No, thank goodness, but that doesn’t help us now; he’s away for his break, remember?”

Harry slumped on the floor, burying his face in his hands. “So, with all the teachers like this, who’s in charge?”

Hermione snorted. “Well, us, obviously. We’re Head Boy and Girl.”

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind when Professor McGonagall offered me the badge,” Harry murmured. Hermione slapped him. “Ouch!”

“Will you stop thinking of yourself for just one minute, Harry Potter? You do realise we’ve got …” She began counting on her fingers. “… about ten other little children loose in a magical castle? We’ve got to find them before something happens!”

“Okay! But we can’t take these three with us.”

Both teens looked over at the kids. Albus was sitting cross-legged next to Minerva, reading eagerly over her shoulder.

“We’ll have to leave them here,” Hermione sighed.

“In my rooms? No thanks. And they’ve nearly finished that book. What happens when they get bored?”

Hermione strode over to Harry’s belongings and, after hunting for a minute, pulled out a Remembrall and Harry’s old Sneakascope. “These should keep them occupied for a while.” She placed a quick Unbreakable Charm on them and placed them on the floor beside the kids, none of whom looked up. “Come on then.”

“Hold on.” Harry crouched down next to the children, who looked up at them. “How old are you three?”

“Six,” said Albus.

“I’m four.”

Severus was silent for a moment before saying quietly, “Two.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked over at Hermione. “Noticing a pattern?”

She shook her head. “Dumbledore’s about four or five times Snape’s age. The order’s the same but it’s not in proportion. We should remember that.”

Harry nodded, still trying to follow the maths, and turned back to the kids. “Albus, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge for a bit, okay?” Albus nodded obediently.

“Do you think that was necessary?” Hermione asked as they left them in the Head Boy’s Room, shutting the portrait behind them.

“I thought it better to be safe than sorry. Okay, if you start in the North, starting with Trelawney – Oh Merlin, I dread to think what she’s going to be like – and I’ll get Ron and start the other end of the castle, he can cover the grounds and Hagrid’s hut. I’ll meet you back here once we’ve covered the lot.”

Hermione nodded, turned and hurried off to the North Tower. Harry began in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

~*@*~

“You’ve _got_ to be joking.”

Harry shook his head seriously. “All the staff members have been turned into kids and we’ve got to round them all up before something happens that doesn’t bear thinking about.”

Ron just stared with an open mouth.

“I’d rather you helped me find them rather than sitting there catching flies, Ron.”

Ron blinked and closed his mouth quickly. “But where are we going to start?”

Harry waved a piece of parchment in his face that he’d been writing on. “I’ve made a list of all the teachers, and where their classrooms and offices are. Hermione’s got the North part of the castle covered, which narrows it down -”

“Harry.”

“What?”

“You said all the teachers were ill, right? Doesn’t that mean they’ll all probably be in their rooms?”

There was a long pause before Harry said, “Ah.”

“You must have got lucky with those three.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Um … I think we’d better start in Dumbledore’s office.”

“Why?”

“He’s bound to have a record of where all the staff live. Let’s just hope he didn’t use it for paper aeroplanes or something … I wouldn’t put it past the kid.”

~*@*~

Hermione climbed awkwardly off the silver ladder into the deserted Divination classroom. “Professor? … Er … Sybill?”

The last time she had been in this room she had been in third year. She was a seventh year now and Head Girl, Hermione reminded herself as she inched nervously towards the shadows Professor Trelawney always entered from.

Pulling a pair of heavy dark curtains open, she saw a door. Pressing her ear to it, she could hear nothing. Hermione tried the handle but it was locked.

After a moment of thought, Hermione knocked clearly. “Sybill?”

There was the sound of running feet from the other side and something heavy slammed into the door. Something that was crying.

“Can you open the door?” Hermione said. When the person the other side simply continued to cry, she continued, “It’s okay, I’m a friend. I’ve come to help you.”

A shaky girl’s voice answered. “I w-want t-to g-go h-h-home!”

“You can’t, not yet,” Hermione said soothingly. “But I can look after you till you do. Can you open the door, Sybill? It _is_ Sybill, isn’t it?”

A sniff answered her and after a moment there was the sound of a key turning in the lock. Hermione stepped back as it opened, revealing a girl of about five with shortish dark hair and huge glasses.

“I’m Sybill,” she whispered quietly. She hesitated. “Where am I?”

Hermione held out her hand. “You’re at Hogwarts school.”

“Hogwarts?” Sybill frowned for a moment, then suddenly smiled, all misery forgotten. “Hogwarts!”

“That’s right,” Hermione assured her, leading her across the classroom. Sybill was glancing this way and that, but didn’t seem interested enough to go and examine her surroundings properly. “My friend and I are going to look after you till we can get you home, okay?”

“Okay!” Sybill said brightly. Hermione smiled at the change of attitude and quietly thanked Merlin that the girl wasn’t as difficult as Hermione found her as an adult.

~*@*~

Ron stopped in his tracks outside Hagrid’s hut. “Oh, _no_.”

The door looked as if it had been opened so forcefully that it had come off its hinges. Either the person who had opened it was deliberately trying to break it, or simply didn’t know their own strength. And it had been opened from the inside …

Ron rushed into the hut. Fang was curled up peacefully on the massive bed. The rest of the hut looked undisturbed. He groaned and left it again, not bothering to try and shut the door. Looking out over the grounds, Ron couldn’t see anyone. When the Ministry had been forced to accept Voldemort was truly back and announced it publicly, most students were reluctant to leave the safety of the castle. Closely protected Hogsmeade visits and the Quidditch were the only escape. Ron groaned again – they’d have to cancel the Hogsmeade trip coming up. It would have been the first one of the term – the third-years were not going to be happy.

But at the moment, he had bigger problems.

“Okay, I’m Hagrid,” Ron muttered out loud. “I’ve just found myself in a strange place and I don’t know where I am and no-one else is here. Where do I go?” His eyes scoured the grounds, pausing at the Forbidden Forest, and his heart sank. “Oh, no. Not in there.”

~*@*~

When Harry had been a small child, he had always been afraid of anything different. Whenever he was afraid of something, he either ran or hid. He knew if he’d suddenly found himself in a strange place with no memory of getting there, he’d find a cosy place to curl up in till someone found him and took him where he was supposed to be. Which was why Neville found him crawling around under the Hospital Wing beds.

“Lost something, Harry?”

“Ouch!” Harry banged his head on the metal frame as Neville announced his presence. “Yeah, I have, as a matter of fact.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“How good are you with kids?”

Neville frowned as Harry crawled out from the end bed and dusted himself down. “Well, I don’t know about that. Why?”

“Look Neville, have you seen anyone under the age of eleven in the castle in the last day?”

“I thought I saw a little girl run through there when I passed here earlier.” Neville pointed to the door at the end that led into Madam Pomfrey’s office. “But I was probably imagining it.”

Harry looked at the door. He’d already tried it and it wouldn’t open. It still wouldn’t open when he tried it again, even with Alohomora. The handle turned but the door wouldn’t open, yet there wasn’t a keyhole.

“I did say I probably imagined it,” Neville repeated.

Harry ignored him and rapped hard on the door. “Is anyone in there?”

No answer. Listening hard at the gap, Harry could hear someone breathing. He knocked again, more gently. “Who’s in there? It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

“There’s no-one in!” cried a girl’s voice, then a gasp.

“Bingo.” Harry grinned up at Neville, who was staring in surprise at the door. “Can you open the door, Poppy?”

Neville looked more surprised and the voice inside gasped again. “How did you know – I mean, I’m not Poppy!”

“Really? Who are you, then?”

There was silence for a moment, then someone walked up to the door. “Who are you?”

“I’m Harry.”

“I don’t know a Harry.”

“You do now. You’re at Hogwarts School, and I’m going to look after you till we can get you home, okay, Poppy?”

“No,” the voice said sulkily. “I want to go home now.”

“You can’t, I’m afraid.”

“ _I want to go home!_ ” she cried, starting a tantrum. Harry sighed.

“Who’s she?” Neville whispered.

“Madam Pomfrey as a kid, apparently,” Harry whispered back over the yells.

“What do you mean?”

“Keep this to yourself okay Neville, but the staff have been turned into kids. It was something served to them at dinner last night.”

“What? All of them?”

“Apart from Professor Lupin, cos he didn’t eat it, but yeah, everyone else. Snape included.”

Neville gulped. “How old are they?”

“It’s varying. Snape’s two, McGonagall’s four, and Dumbledore’s six. He’s a nightmare: he’d wrecked his own office by the time we’d found him. I tried to go through his stuff to see if I could find out where all the teachers live in the castle, but he’d finger-painted half of it and eaten the other half. So we’re using our initiative to round them up. Poppy, please come out,” Harry directed to the closed door. She’d stopped screaming now and was just silent.

“No.”

“Why won’t you come out?”

“I don’t want to see _him!_ ”

“Who?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“ _Him!_ The big boy!”

“How big?”

“Big! And scary!”

At this point, right on cue, Ron came running into the Hospital Wing. “Any luck?”

Harry gave him a “Don’t ask” sort of look. “What about you?”

“I think Hagrid’s gone into the Forest!”

**TBC …**

A/N: Please review! I live off them! Especially when they say **what** you like rather than just the fact that you liked it! Please don’t flame! 


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